Detours
by TheHeartOfLife
Summary: Odds and ends, past and future. Outtakes from The Long Way Home. AKA The Sh*t I Didn't Show. AH, rated M.
1. Chapter 1

**So, I've had these outtakes sitting around for a while and thought that instead of letting them languish forever in my doc folder (which is truly a graveyard of half-written things), I'd share them instead. **

**This outtake details Rose and Emmett's first kiss and takes place during her senior year of high school. This is post-Corner and chock-full o' dramatic teenage emotions. :) **

**As always, I don't own Twilight, yada yada. **

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><p>I dragged my fingers lightly along the wall as I made my way down the dark hallway. The thumping bass of the rap song playing downstairs was reverberating against my fingertips and I smiled unsteadily at the sensation.<p>

Alice was having one of her epic parties, the kind where everybody planned their weekend around it, shuffled their work schedules so that they weren't hung over and puking during their shift at the mall or the diner or the grocery store the next morning. Her parents were out of town again – in New York this time? It was hard to keep up and it didn't matter anyway. Word had spread quickly regardless. Jasper and Emmett had even made the three and a half hour trek from Seattle after their last class earlier. Last I saw, Emmett was manning the keg and Jasper was lording over the stereo while Alice danced, her arms flailing around haphazardly.

It was late now. I wasn't sure what time exactly; the night was starting to blur together. Three Solo cups full of lukewarm beer would do that. My body felt light and heavy at the same time, my head spinning just enough that it was entertaining instead of annoying.

I stopped just outside one of the closed doors in the hallway, frowning at it. Why had I come up here again?

_Oh, that's right. Edward. _

Someone had set up a makeshift beer pong table downstairs and I wanted to kick his ass. I had way better hand-eye coordination than he did when he was drunk, so it would be an easy win. He'd never refuse a challenge. My smile widened at the thought of handing him his ass.

He'd come upstairs a little while ago, Bella trailing behind him. Emmett and Jasper had catcalled them the entire way up and I'd tried not to laugh when Bella tripped on the last step. Emmett saw the twist of my mouth, probably heard the snort too, and elbowed me softly. He always seemed to catch me when I didn't want to be seen.

"Are you okay?" Alice had yelled, her beer sloshing over the side of her cup. She stared down at the puddle near her feet, looking troubled, then shrugged and looked back up at Bella.

"Go away, you guys are attracting attention," Edward complained, pulling Bella into his side protectively. His eyes, slightly hazy and heavy-lidded, swept over the group of us gathered at the foot of the stairs and lingered on me for a split second.

"Yeah, real covert operation you've got going on there, buddy," Jasper said in an extra-loud voice as he pulled a joint from his shirt pocket. "No one knows what a trip up the stairs to the _bedroom_ means."

Edward released Bella just long enough to flip Jasper off with both hands, then tugged her down the dark hallway, her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder.

I'd only been one beer in at that point. I'd slammed two in succession after that, trying to numb the ache in my chest.

I leaned my cheek against the smooth wood of the door now and listened for any sounds of covert fucking. They wouldn't do that at a crowded party like this, would they? That didn't seem like them. More likely than not they'd just come up here to escape the crowd and noise. Bella was not a crowd and noise type of girl.

Come to think of it, they'd left just as Mike Newton attempted to do the worm in the living room in front of a raucous one.

I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and gingerly tried to turn it, my bottom lip caught between my teeth. It opened easily, silently. I stuck my head in and opened my mouth to call out Edward's name.

Someone else beat me to it. It was barely an exhalation, but I heard it loud and clear over the music. "_Edward_."

My eyes adjusted to the darkness quickly and I suddenly saw two bodies, one sitting on the edge of the bed, the other standing and slightly hunched.

It was as if a subtle spotlight revealed everything I didn't want to see in painstaking detail. It felt like I was standing there for hours, though it was probably all of two seconds. I saw his hands, one wrapped up in her hair, the other curved around her hip and moving down until it cupped the back of her jeans-clad thigh. I saw her standing between his legs, her hands exploring his jaw line and then going up into his hair. I heard the soft rustle of clothing, the sounds of their uneven breath. The moonlight peeked through the curtains and I saw his face for one quarter of a second, his eyes closed in rapture.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat and I tripped back, my hand slipping off the doorknob and then reaching for it again. I panicked. I needed to get the fuck out before they saw me.

The door creaked and I just barely saw Bella's head turn before I stepped out of sight.

Her voice drifted out of the room. "Who was that?"

His was clearer, silky and gruff at the same time. "Who cares? C'mere."

I closed my eyes, feeling that familiar prickling sensation, and slammed the door shut. The sound echoed around the empty hallway, vibrating down into my bones.

I made it down the stairs somehow and went straight to the kitchen where the keg was, grabbing a cup. Emmett was nowhere to be seen so I pumped it myself and filled the cup three quarters of the way, stopping to take a huge gulp.

_Who _cares_? I fucking care_, I thought, wiping my mouth with the back of my wrist fiercely. I couldn't get the image of them together out of my mind. I felt like a trespasser, like some sort of voyeur looking in on an incredibly intimate moment. And it wasn't like they'd been naked and humping; it was just a kiss.

But it wasn't _just _a kiss. It was the kind of kiss that meant something, that had heart and lust and passion and promise poured into it. It was the kind of kiss that got you so wrapped up that you didn't hear or see or feel anything else but that person right in front of you. You definitely didn't hear the door open or the breath being sucked out of someone else's lungs.

God, I wanted out of my body right now. I wanted to peel back my skin and step outside of it, leave it on the kitchen floor so I didn't have to feel like this anymore. I didn't want to have to look at them every day and see how happy they were.

I took another long drink so my mouth had something to do. I had a feeling if I didn't it would let out a whimper or a sob, and the last thing I wanted to be was that girl who got wasted and cried. What I did want was numbness. I wanted light and dizzy and oblivion so I didn't have to think about my best friend loving someone else.

"Easy, tiger." I turned to see Emmett in the doorway, a smile twitching on his mouth. It dropped as his eyes swept over my face. I must have looked insane or pissed or maybe insanely pissed because he stepped forward, frowning. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine," I choked out, shoving my cup at him so he'd keep his distance. "I need more beer, please."

"I think you've had enough, Hale," he replied, taking the cup out of my hand and placing it on the counter. I glared up at him, mouth agape. "Whatever's wrong, more alcohol isn't going to help matters."

"Whatever," I muttered, leaning back against the counter and crossing my arms. "I just want to be drunk."

"You _are _drunk."

"Drunker," I snapped. "Why are you cutting me off?"

He rolled his eyes. "Because something's clearly going on and getting shitfaced will only make it worse."

I snatched the cup from his hands and peeked into it. Son of a bitch, it was empty. I turned my death stare back to him and he raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. Tossing it over my shoulder and into the sink, I said, "Fine. If I don't get to have any, neither do you."

"That's fine, I've been nursing that cup all night anyway," he shrugged, stepping closer to me as someone pushed by him. I swayed and placed my hand on his chest to steady myself. He cupped my elbow gently, his hand warm and steady against my bare skin.

"Come on, Em," I cajoled, looking up at him. I had the sudden urge to run a finger over the thick fringe of sooty lashes framing his blue eyes. "Just one more."

"Tell me what's wrong and then we'll talk," he said. He was still close to me, even though the kitchen had emptied out again, and I realized my hand was still on his chest.

"It's nothing," I started, but was interrupted by Jasper and Alice bounding in, trailed by Edward. Miraculously, Bella wasn't with him. My theory that their skin had somehow grafted together and they'd become Siamese twins was officially debunked.

"Donger needs bee – whoa," Jasper said and then faltered, taking in the scene before him. My hand dropped to my side and I slid sideways, putting some distance between Emmett and me. Alice's eyes widened and I shook my head. I wasn't in the mood for her assumptions. Emmett made a beeline for Jasper and grabbed the flask in his hand, taking a long pull.

Edward sidled up to me, nudging my shoulder with his. "What's going on?"

I stayed silent, crossing my arms, my eyes fixed on the cabinet across the way.

He leaned forward to catch my eye, but I just turned my head. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said to the cabinet's handle.

"It doesn't look like nothing," he murmured. "Your nostrils are doing that flaring thing they do when you're mad."

I plugged my nose and glared over at him. "God, just leave me alone, Edward. Are you _trying_ to piss me off?"

He balked, his hazy smile turning down into a sneer. "Jesus, what's up your ass? Excuse me for caring."

I let out an incredulous laugh. "Oh, that's funny."

"Why is that funny?" he responded.

He looked genuinely annoyed now and that only fed my irrational anger. His complete and utter ignorance at what he did to me, at how he continued to unknowingly torture me by doing just enough to keep the pathetic sliver of hope I had alive absolutely brought me to my knees. It was accidental, but that almost made it worse. Shouldn't he have known me well enough to see the way he was wrecking me?

The saddest part of all of this was that I _knew_ it was irrational to be mad at him and yet I couldn't stop myself. I wanted to punish him for loving her. I wanted to scream and yell and make him feel like shit because that's what he was doing to me.

I opened my mouth to respond but was interrupted by Mike running into the kitchen, laughing uproariously. He slammed into Edward, who slammed into the counter and the half-full cup of beer sitting on it. His hand hit it just right and it went flying onto me in an almost poetic amber arc.

I scrunched my eyes shut as an ominous silence descended on the kitchen. I could have sworn I heard a record screeching to a halt somewhere. The warm liquid covered me from collarbone to waist, soaking through my pink shirt.

My eyes opened slowly, going from the horrified faces of Jasper, Emmett and Alice to Mike's terrified gaze, finally settling on the perfect little "o" Edward's mouth was making. His lips looked darker, a deep cherry red, and slightly swollen, and if he thought my nostrils were flaring before, he hadn't seen anything yet.

Alice stepped forward, a little snort escaping her. Apparently the horror had turned to humor. "Rosalie, are you –"

"What the _fuck_, Edward?" I spat out. My throat was so constricted with pain and anger that I wasn't able to reach the full volume I intended.

He gaped at me. "What do you mean, what the fuck _Edward_? Newton was the one who ran into me!"

Mike took one look at the murderous glint in my eye and beat it out of the kitchen, tail between his legs.

"I feel like I'm unknowingly co-starring in a reality remake of _Carrie_," I heard Jasper whisper. Emmett smacked him on the back of the head.

"If you had just left me alone like I asked you to, you wouldn't be standing there and I wouldn't be standing _here _with disgusting frat beer all over me," I replied, pulling my shirt away from my sticky skin.

"I thought I got the good kind," Alice said, looking down into her cup.

Edward's eyes were wide and fixed on me. "It was an accident, for Christ's sake."

Right, an accident. Somehow I thought that would be his excuse for making me love him, too, if he knew. Why was it that when people said 'it was an accident' they thought it absolved them from what they had done, from the chain reaction they caused? It didn't matter if there was intent or not. The damage was done regardless.

That thought went from silent to growled out, purged out of my mouth. "Just because it was an accident doesn't mean it didn't happen. It doesn't erase what you did."

"I literally have nofucking clue what you're talking about right now, Rosalie," Edward shot back, looking at the others for backup. They all remained smartly silent. "It's a _shirt_. You are the only person I know that would blow up about this."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, right, Rosalie the vapid blonde. Good one, Edward."

"Wow," he laughed humorlessly. "You are truly irrational. You've outdone yourself, congratulations."

"Hey, hey," Jasper said, stepping in between us. "It's all good."

"Yeah, it's all good. It was an _accident_, right?" I spat out.

Edward threw up his hands, trying to step closer to me. Jasper held him off, his hands squarely on his chest. "What the fuck? What do you want me to say? Do I need to pay for your dry cleaning bill? Or do you want me to sit here and sew you a new shirt? Just tell me what to do."

"Leave me alone! That's what I asked you to do in the first place and you ignored me, as usual, because you don't get it."

His brow furrowed. I had a feeling the bridge of the nose pinch wasn't far behind. "Don't get what?"

"Exactly!"

And then suddenly we were yelling at each other, our words piling on top of each other's so they didn't make any sense. It was all gibberish, expletives mixed randomly in with identifiable words, because we were both so out of our minds with anger and alcohol (and probably weed, in his case).

I was always fascinated by the way his features bloomed when we fought, how his eyes sparked with fire, how that vein in his neck protruded and pulsed. He was beautiful, even like this. It occurred to me then that these were the only times I incited such a passionate response in him. Maybe that was why I pushed and provoked him. Even if he was screaming at me, it was better than him ignoring me. At least he was paying attention. At least he was looking at me instead of her.

"Okay, I think we're done here," Emmett said, stepping forward and taking me by the arm. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

"Oh, yay, someone who gives a shit," I replied sarcastically, letting him lead me out of the kitchen. Alice placed her hand on my shoulder as I stalked by her, but I shook it off, too irate to be touched.

We strode down the dark hallway and people jumped out of the way, staring. I wasn't sure if it was because of the picture Emmett and I represented – blonde fury and brute strength – or if it was the smell of drama rolling off of us in waves.

"Hey, hold up," Edward called out, following us.

Emmett looked back at him. I couldn't see his face, but a light flush was marring the golden skin on his neck and tingeing the ends of his ears. "Dude, you're done."

Edward snorted. "Fuck that, not until I get an apology."

I whirled on him, slamming into Emmett. He stood in place, one hand on my hip, serving as a solid barricade between me and the stupid idiot I couldn't fall out of love with no matter how hard I tried.

"You want an apology?" I asked and held up my middle finger. "Here's your apology."

Edward shook his head, the anger seeming to slip slightly. I could see the confusion in his eyes, the flash of something else that I was too drunk to recognize. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a slight body, dark hair gleaming, come to stand beside him. She put a hand on his arm but he shook it off, stepping forward slightly. My heart constricted in victory, exultant that he had rebuffed her to focus on me.

"Why are you being like this, Rosalie?" he asked, shaking his head. "It's just a shirt."

_No, it's just my heart_. But I couldn't tell him that. I'd missed my chance a long time ago.

Emmett led me through the doorway of a bathroom and I stumbled back slightly, grabbing onto a towel rack. My balance was really starting to fuck itself up now, the alcohol apparently replacing the adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins just minutes before.

"Know when to retreat, solider," Emmett said before slamming the door in his face.

I turned away from him to look in the mirror. I looked completely unhinged, my hair falling in crazy waves around my face, my cheeks red with wrath, my jaw clenched. And my _shirt_. The beer had made it all but see-through. The small flower pattern on my bra was showing clearly through the soaked material.

"My bra was showing!" I exclaimed, cupping my hand over it.

"Yep," Emmett said. I looked at his reflection. He was leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked somewhere between annoyed and amused, his eyes focused on my hand.

The bathroom was small, and I'd never felt its size more than right now. He was far away but close, not touching me but still all around. I could feel his body heat, could smell the soap and cologne he used.

His eyes met mine and I felt the warmth spreading from my cheeks outward, down my neck and flushing my chest.

I swallowed hard, ripping my gaze from his. I focused instead on my shirt and how the hell I was going to get it clean. I snatched a hand towel from the rack and gathered a handful of fabric inside of it, trying to squeeze the moisture from it.

"So, are you going to tell me what that was all about out there?" Emmett asked. His voice was everywhere, bouncing off the walls and humming against my skin.

"Nope," I replied, keeping my eyes on my shirt. Mortifyingly enough, they started filling with tears. The humiliation of how I had acted was starting to sink in. I had been irrational, had let my emotions get the best of me. And the worst part was that everyone probably thought I flew off the handle for no real reason, that I was truly upset about the goddamn shirt. I'd made a complete idiot out of myself.

"Hey."

The deep timbre of Emmett's voice cut into my thoughts and I looked up as a tear slipped down my cheek. He was standing just behind me now and reached around to take the towel from my hand.

"Come on, sit down."

I walked the short length of the bathroom and plopped down on the toilet, which was unfortunately the only place to sit, then cradled my head in my hands. "I'm so stupid."

He crouched down in front of me. "You're not stupid, just drunk."

"How about crazy?" I tried, sniffling.

He shook his head and pursed his lips thoughtfully, appraising me. "You're kind of a pain in the ass, and hard as hell to wrangle, but you're not stupid or crazy."

"I _feel_ stupid and crazy."

"That's pretty normal when you're hurting."

My heart dropped. I focused on his hands, which were laid flat on the top of my thighs. "I – I don't know what…"

There was a long pause and then he sighed. "Okay, Rose. Statement retracted."

I looked up at him, another tear blazing a path down my face. I wondered if the pain was radiating off of me or if I was just that transparent. I wouldn't admit anything, though, no matter how obvious my scene out there was. Everyone else had been drunk enough not to put two and two together and I silently cursed him for being both sober and incredibly observant.

He brushed his thumb against my wet cheek. "Hey now, there's no crying in baseball."

I gave him a watery smile and he grinned in response. "What about in a tiny bathroom with Destiny's Child playing in the background?"

"That's how you know Jasper's really fucked up," he laughed. "He starts playing inane shit like this. He subjected me to an entire night of that thong song last week because he was sure it said 'Alice' in it somewhere."

"Did it?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You _are _drunk."

I nodded and my body swayed with my head.

He smiled, a heartbreakingly tender one, and I pressed a finger against one of his dimples. He caught my finger in his hand and squeezed it.

_I want it to be you_, I thought, letting my eyes roam over his face and take in his beautiful gold-flecked eyes that could never decide if they were blue or green; the straight, strong lines of his nose, his brow, his jaw; the perfect cupid's bow of his top lip.

The physical electricity between us had always been palpable, almost tangible, and it was crackling in the air right now, right between our mouths that had somehow gotten just inches from one another. He was looking at me, alternating between my eyes and my mouth and I could see some sort of internal struggle happening. I reached up and smoothed the little wrinkles between his brows with my thumb and then went further up to his hair, weaving my fingers between the dark silky strands. He leaned into my touch.

I wanted to forget everything else. I wanted to forget about Edward and Bella, about my shirt now sticking to me uncomfortably, about the past year and however many months that had thrown me into this constant swirl of emotional turmoil. And I wanted Emmett to be the one who erased all of it.

His eyes fluttered shut and then opened half way. His fingers dug into my knees. "Rosalie, I –"

He stopped talking as soon as my lips touched his hesitantly. I grazed them against his bottom lip, warm and soft, and then moved to his top, my nose brushing against his. I looked at him, questioning, not moving further but not backing away, and watched as the gold in his eyes ignited.

"Rose," he tried again, his warm breath washing over my face. It sounded like a warning, but his hand went to the back of my head, cradling and gripping.

I pressed my lips to his again, all hesitation gone, and he weaved his other arm around my waist, pulling me against him. From far away, I remembered that I was sitting on a toilet, that I had just been screaming at Edward a few minutes ago and then crying over him shortly thereafter, but then Emmett's mouth opened with mine and my mind went absolutely still.

It felt like we were colliding; lips, bodies, tongues. There was an explosion behind my eyelids, a burst of brilliant white light, and I let out a whimper or maybe a moan because I didn't know something so simple could feel so good. It was just his lips against mine, but it was more. It was his taste and smell, the feeling of his hand lightly grasping my hair, the hum of his groan when I took his bottom lip into my mouth, the solid strength of his chest crushed against mine. He was pulling me toward him like he couldn't get close enough. _I_ couldn't. I needed and wanted and I didn't know if it would be enough, even as I wrapped my hand around his neck to get closer still.

His hum got stronger, louder and all of a sudden he was sitting back on his heels and my back was against the tank. Cool air rushed between the space where our entangled bodies had just been, but the goose bumps that had erupted over my skin shrank away instead of spreading further.

I stared at him dizzily, my chest heaving.

"What…" I trailed off, confused.

He looked at the door, shaking his head. His breath was uneven. He took several deep breaths before he responded. "Rosalie, I can't."

My blood ran cold. Those three words sounded dangerously like a rejection. "You _can't_?"

He flinched at the obvious anger in my voice. I stood unsteadily, my knees and legs weak from the alcohol and his touch, and lurched for the door.

"Hey, stop it," he said, standing to block my way.

"Get out of my way," I growled. My eyes started watering and I ducked my chin against my chest so that a curtain of hair hid my face from his view.

"_Stop it_," he repeated. "You don't get to run away from this until you've heard what I have to say."

"There's nothing for you to say, Emmett." My hand fumbled blindly for the doorknob. I had to inch closer and closer to him to find it, until the length of my body was pressed against his. _Fuck_, where was this thing?

"Look at me."

I shook my head, blinking furiously, my hand still reaching for the handle. It wasn't there. How could it have just disappeared? Jesus, what a pathetic metaphor for my life. I felt like I was constantly searching for something just out of my reach, or that just wasn't there in the first place.

His fingers gently gripped my chin and he pulled my face up until I was forced to look into his eyes. They were dark and sparking with frustration. I tried to shrink away but his arm wrapped around my back, securing me against him.

"Listen to me carefully," he stated. "Do you understand?"

I nodded silently, giving up.

"I'm not going to be the guy you use to get someone else out of your head." I started to protest, but he gave me a warning look. "I really like you, Rosalie. You're gorgeous and smart and tough. And you drive me fucking crazy sometimes." I let out a huff and one corner of his mouth pulled up for a split second before he continued. "I'm not going to be your second choice, okay? When – _if _– you do that again, I don't want to question whether it's because you want me or because you're trying to forget someone else."

I stared at him, stunned. He'd just laid me bare with that statement and I'd never been so ashamed in my life. I wanted to deny that what he said was true, but it would be a lie. He deserved so much better than that.

"That's the only reason I stopped," he continued. I closed my watering eyes, pressing my forehead against his chest. "It's not because I don't want you because _god_, I do."

"I'm sorry," I whispered in a shaky voice. I couldn't think of anything else to say and I didn't think any long-winded explanation would make it better. I'd used him, plain and simple. Had I wanted to kiss him? _Yes_. Regardless of how confused my mind and heart were, my body reacted to him without uncertainty. But he would need all of it, all of me, and I wasn't ready to give that to him. I'd known that and I'd done it anyway. I'd tried to erase my own pain and had hurt him instead.

He sighed into my hair. "I know."

We stood like that for a few long moments, my head against his chest, his hand making soothing circles over the small of my back.

Finally I stepped back, unable to meet his eyes. "Um, I'm just going to…" I trailed off, waving my arms uselessly in front of my soiled shirt.

"Hide?"

"_What?_"

He was smiling impishly when I finally looked at him, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Made you look." He jutted his chin toward the door. "You sure you don't want to come back out there with me?"

"Pretty sure." It'd be a miracle if I ever left this tiny room again. Maybe a hole would magically open up in the floor and swallow me.

Emmett nodded slowly and turned to the door – there was that fucking doorknob – before looking over his shoulder at me. His mouth was pursed. He looked like he wanted to say something. God knew I should, but it was all stuck deep inside me, buried beneath fear and regret and heartache. I really wanted to ask if we were okay, if he hated me for what I had just done. I wanted to know if I had ruined our friendship. But I didn't think I'd hear the answer I wanted him to give and I didn't want to hear the one I deserved. So instead I looked away and waited to hear the gentle click of the door as it closed behind him.

"Hey, Rose?"

I turned. Emmett was standing in the doorway, his hand braced against the doorframe.

"Yeah?" I asked, a little breathless and hopeful.

"I'll have that drink waiting for you when you're ready."

There it was, the olive branch that I wasn't worthy of, the unspoken confirmation that this wasn't going to ruin us. I pressed my fingers against the spot over my heart and was surprised to feel it still beating, and strongly at that.

"Thank you," I choked out, looking down so he wouldn't see the tears gathering in my eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight. What a sorry sight I must have been.

The door closed this time and I made my way to the mirror again, barely able to look at myself. I _was _a sorry sight, my face tear-stained and flushed, my lips almost as dark as Edward's had been earlier.

"You idiot," I whispered in a choked voice. "Why can't you get over him?"

Not surprisingly, the sad girl looking back at me didn't have an answer, only tears.

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><p><strong>Thanks to hmonster, lightstardusting and LoreliD for looking at this way back in the day. Future-take coming soon!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**This was a futuretake written for hmonster's birthday last year. It's a little wink wink, nudge nudge to the road trip truth or dare game Emmett and Rose played in chapter 17...a little bit dirtier, though. Needless to say, this particular outtake earns its M rating. And since it was a present to my beta, it's unbetaed. Excuse any errors, please. :)**

**Also excuse the fact that this is marshmallowy-light on plot. **

**It's been so nice to see some familiar faces. Thanks for reading! **

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><p>It's amazing what you learn about a person when you move in with them. You realize the minutiae you secretly cataloged before that monumental step in your relationship was just the tip of the idiosyncratic iceberg.<p>

Emmett and I moved into a sunny one-bedroom apartment in a quiet corner of Russian Hill three months ago. When we were long distance, our quirks had been revealed to one another slowly. They were savored and filed away because we didn't have each other all the time.

When we started living together, those little discoveries came every day. I learned that Emmett got up at five-thirty to work out and always left my Raisin Bran and a bowl out on the counter for me when I woke up. I knew that he preferred to sing power ballads in the shower because, "the acoustics are awesome in here, babe. Have you heard me? I should like the dude from Mr. Big." I knew that he stripped out of his work clothes as soon as he got home, that he loved to stand behind me when I cooked and sneak bites of food, his arm wrapped around my waist. I learned that he sucked at washing dishes and left little specks of toothpaste on the bathroom faucet. I knew that each layer that was revealed to me only made me love him more, even when he was driving me insane.

I also discovered that Emmett loved to play games.

It was something I knew to some extent, of course. He'd always been insanely athletic, dominating in football in high school and picking up any other sport he tried. He and Garrett had become bosom buddies in that regard (among many. Jasper was developing a complex, according to Alice). They played basketball at rundown courts in Chinatown and tag football at the Marina Green on Sundays. They'd even joined a soccer league, though you wouldn't have known they were on the same team by the way they shit-talked one another.

And it didn't stop there. If there was any type of play involved, any hint of challenge, Emmett wanted in. He could sniff out a pool table in a bar from thirty feet away. He got rowdy with Monopoly and Sorry!, battled Jasper and Edward on Guitar Hero and Madden when we visited them in Seattle. He even loved _Jeopardy_ and infuriatingly enough usually got most of the answers right, bellowing them at the television like Alex Trebek could hear him if he was enthusiastic enough.

I pretended to be annoyed by his childlike glee, but secretly I found his need to turn everything into a game disarmingly adorable, unless I was on the losing end. I loved the twinkle he got in his eye when he won, the way his nostrils flared and his mouth pursed when he didn't, the swiftness with which he got over it and moved onto something else.

And it hadn't exactly hurt our sex life either.

My lips curled into a smirk as he sauntered into the bathroom now, clad in navy boxer briefs that sat low on his hips. All of his extra-curriculars had only helped the sinuous muscles in his arms, his chest, his stomach and legs, making him pretty much impossible to resist.

He knew it, too, and came to stand right behind me as I straightened, blush brush in hand. His eyes met mine in the mirror and then drifted lower; I could feel the weight of them on my mouth, my breasts, my stomach. His hand grazed over the dip in my waist and came to rest on my hips.

"Can I help you?" I asked archly, shivering. I pressed back into him, rolling my hips for good measure, and his fingers dug into my skin.

"Mmhmm," he replied with a grin. His eyes were dark but amused. I could feel what he needed help with against my back.

"As tempting as that is –" God, it was really tempting now that he was kissing my neck, his mouth warm and wanting on my skin, his tongue tasting, teasing. "Mmm…we have a party to get to in thirty minutes and I'm not –" My breath caught when he nipped at my jaw. "I'm not even dressed."

He plucked the brush from my hand and set it down on the edge of the sink, then circled my wrists with one hand, placing the other on my bare stomach. He curved into me until his mouth was next to my ear, his fingers brushing against the top of my underwear. I leaned my head back against his shoulder, my hips moving forward at their own accord, searching for more of his touch. He smiled wickedly at my reflection, his teeth scraping against his bottom lip.

"Kate and Garrett won't mind if we're a few minutes late," he murmured, his hand creeping lower. My body tightened in anticipation and his grip on my wrist did, too. "You can't be bent over in see-through things and not expect me to react."

"Oh, and you think you can take care of this in a few minutes?" I asked, trying to keep my breath steady as his hand drifted up, his fingers trailing hot fire and goose bumps up my stomach until he reached the bottom edge of my bra.

Emmett's gaze was focused on his hand as it palmed my breast, and I rocked back into him, trying to gain back some of the control he'd taken just by touching me. My eyes met piercing aquamarine and I briefly considered letting him just bend me over the sink; anything to get rid of the ache that had settled itself down in my stomach and lower.

"We can't," I sighed, halfheartedly trying to wrestle my wrists out of his grip, which only tightened. My hands were pressed up against him between our bodies; I could feel how much he wanted it, could see it in the rhythmic tic of his jaw muscle, the way he was staring at me reacting to his hands and body and mouth.

"But baby, we _are_," he crooned into my ear, taking my lobe lightly between his teeth as his fingers closed around my nipple.

"Emmett." I tried for stern, but his name came out in a long, low whimper that made him groan. It rumbled in his chest and against my back. "Seriously, if we're late for another one of their get-togethers, we'll never hear the end of it. I love your...enthusiasm," I drawled, raising an eyebrow. He smirked. "But this isn't happening right now."

He placed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where my jaw and ear met, his eyes still locked with mine in the mirror. "Fine, blue baller. You wanna play a game instead?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "A _game_, Emmett? Really?"

"Truth or dare?" he asked, eyes flashing with amusement.

I doubted I could look _any_ more incredulous. "Are you ser -"

"Truth or dare, Rosalie?" he asked again, his voice taking on a note of authority that made my stomach quiver. His hands were still wrapped around my wrists, his other hand flat against my stomach to keep me in place. He had full control over me right now, could manipulate my body any way he wanted to, and I almost gave in. But there was a spark of challenge connecting our gazes in the mirror and I didn't want to be the one to give in.

So even though I was on fire from his touch and voice, I replied coolly, "Dare."

His lips spread into a honeyed smile, his dimples deep and dangerous, a sure sign that I'd walked right into a trap. "I'm shocked you'd pick that, Rose." He released his hold on my hands, flattened his palms against my hips, and pulled me back until our hips were flush.

"Just shut up and give it to me," I huffed.

He laughed. "I was trying to, but you weren't game."

"Speaking of game, you smirky bastard, get on with it or we're going to be late anyway."

"All right." He drew the syllables out lazily, his thumbs circling my hipbones. "Since you're so set on giving up what could have been the best sex of your life -"

"You're so modest."

"- I dare you not to touch me." Even as he was saying it, he was rocking into me, his fingers sweeping closer and closer to where I really, _really_ wanted them to be right now. I swallowed hard. "At all. Once we leave the apartment, Hale, your hands can't be anywhere near my person."

"What kind of dare is that?" My voice was strained, breathless.

"One you can't - " he stopped with a sharp breath when I arched back, my hands braced against the sink. "_Shit_...win."

We stared at one another for a long, drawn out moment, our breath bouncing off the walls, echoing the need that now neither of us was willing to give up.

"Fine," I clipped out, ducking out from under his hold. He put his hands on his hips, managing to look both put out and amused, not to mention completely turned on. "But I dare you to keep your hands to yourself, too. Not one finger on me until we get back home."

"Easy," he said, even as his eyes made one last longing sweep of my body. I crossed my arms and his gaze darted back up to my chest, then narrowed when he reached my face.

_Game on._

I rushed to my closet and stood in front of my selection of dresses, chewing on my thumbnail. I was distracted by the knot in my stomach and the buzz in my veins. I could feel him all the way in here and truthfully, after the way he'd just worked me up I wasn't sure I would be able to fulfill my end of the dare. We were usually touching in some way or another – little subtle brushes of skin underneath the table at dinner; intertwined fingers when we were at the grocery store or the movies; curled up on the couch or tangled in bed. In theory, he would win this dare without any effort. I wasn't good at keeping my hands to myself, and had no patience for waiting on top of that.

But he seemed to have forgotten that I was _really _not good at losing. And right now, that trumped how badly I wanted him, how much I wanted to skip out on the party and drag him to bed.

I ran my tongue thoughtfully along the edge of my bottom lip, feeling the corners of my mouth spread into a mischievous grin as I plucked a black dress off its hanger.

Ten minutes later, I sauntered out of the bedroom, my heels clicking against the hardwood floor. Emmett was standing in the foyer, hands in his pockets with his broad back facing me. He was whistling smugly and I stopped just behind him, hip cocked and head tilted.

"Ready to go, McCarty?"

"Right on time, just like you wan...ted." He faltered as he turned around and caught sight of me. His eyes were everywhere at once, heavy on me, exploring, taking in curves and the expanse of skin the dress revealed. He lingered on my throat and collarbone before moving lower. I was doing the same, my heart beating heavily; he looked gorgeous in dark jeans, button-down shirt and navy blazer, his hair a little too long and curling around his ears. A hint of five o'clock shadow accentuated his jaw line.

And the bastard was wearing his glasses. He knew I loved him in glasses. My heart skipped a beat, my fingers twitching against my sides. This game was going to get dirty very, very fast.

He stepped forward, then stopped, and I put my hand on my hip indignantly.

"What the hell are you doing?" we demanded in unison.

"You're wearing that dress?" he continued sharply.

"You're wearing glasses?" I shot back.

"Yeah, I need them to see," he replied, ignoring my derisive snort, his mouth turning up smugly. "What, do they _bother_ you, Rosalie?"

I jutted my chin toward him suspiciously. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

"Are_ you_?"

We stared at one another silently, stubbornly standing off, before he broke into a brilliant smile.

"Oh, this is going to be fun."

I rolled my eyes and went to the hallway closet to get my coat. "You're unbelievable."

I was just stepping over the threshold of the front door when Emmett's hand went around my wrist, pulling me back inside.

"Can I get one for the road?" His arms snaked around my waist, bringing me close, and I placed my hands on his biceps to steady myself. My eyes were level with his jaw and I had to physically restrain myself from nuzzling my nose against it.

"You've got some nerve," I huffed, but he was already dipping his head and when our mouths met, I gave in. It was a long, slow kiss, surprisingly tender considering our antagonism, one that vibrated every nerve ending in my body. His hand weaved into my hair, cradling the back of my head, and I held onto him, tasted and felt, forgetting everything else. It was always this way when he kissed me, like sound and time and gravity just ceased to exist. He was the only thing that tethered me to the ground.

"Ready?" he murmured against my lips, giving me one last lingering kiss before pulling back. His eyes were dark in the low light.

I gave him a sweet smile, peeling myself out of his arms. "To win? Absolutely."

The cab ride to Kate and Garrett's was quick. As soon as we ducked into the backseat, Emmett's hand went for mine. He remembered at the last second and pulled away, looking at my hand balefully, before our driver launched into an in-depth monologue about how the real estate bubble would never burst in San Francisco. Emmett engaged him in conversation, but I stayed quiet, watching him talk instead. He looked over at me often, his lips curved into a conspiratorial smile, and I wanted to curl myself up next to him, take his hand and kiss right below his ear.

"Truth or dare?" he said lowly as we pulled up to Kate and Garrett's building.

"Truth."

"How long do you think you're going to last?" he asked my mouth.

I almost told the cab to turn around. His voice was low promise and sex, but then his dimples flashed devilishly and my resolve settled back into place.

_Must. Win._

"I thought you knew. I always finish on top," I replied, matching his tone. His smug grin faltered and I slid out of the cab, my mind supplying me with plenty of images to support my statement. I heard a low thump; when I looked over my shoulder, halfway up the steps already, Emmett was rubbing his head with a grimace.

"Hale-McCarty party!" Garrett shouted from the open door. He had a beer in hand, his arms spread out imperiously. Kate stood next to him, shaking her head with a smile.

"We had bets going whether you'd make it on time or not," Kate said once I reached her, handing me a glass of wine. I took it gratefully, then looked over my shoulder at Emmett, who was taking the steps two at a time.

"Are you coming?" I asked archly.

"Oh yeah, sweetheart, I'm right behind you," he drawled, his words dripping with innuendo.

Garrett looked down at Emmett and then me before settling back on Emmett again, his expression bemused. "Is there anything you two want to share with the class?"

"No," Emmett and I said in unison.

Kate wrapped her arm around my shoulder, ushering me inside. "Just please don't defile our home."

"I can promise you that won't happen," Emmett replied, sounding mournful.

Emmett and Garrett broke off once we got to the living room, gravitating toward a group of guys, all with beers in hand. I only recognized Ben and Charlie, but Emmett gave out complicated man-shakes to the other three, too, smiling easily. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as Kate steered me through the crowd to a circle of women that included Irina and Maggie.

I barely paid attention to introductions to the other two women, nodding and repeating names that I forgot two seconds later because I was too aware of Emmett across the room. I knew he was watching me; I could feel his eyes on my back, warm heat on exposed skin where my dress dropped down into a low "v." I wore it anticipating we'd be mingling with other people, that him seeing me like this and knowing he couldn't touch me would drive him crazy. It was one of his favorite parts of my body, something he'd told me time and time again while he kissed down my spine, when his thumbs kneaded into the dimples above my ass, when his hands grazed over the curve of my waist from behind.

I looked over my shoulder and his attention was on Ben, but I knew he felt me looking at him because his lips curled up into a mischievous grin. I watched as he took a long sip from the glass in his hand - bourbon probably, or maybe whiskey - then ran his tongue over his bottom lip to catch the moisture. When his eyes finally met mine, I gave him my best Mona Lisa smile and then turned back around, sweeping my hair over my shoulder to give him a better view.

"What are you two up to?" Kate murmured after we'd been standing and talking for a while, looking at me curiously as she nodded her head back toward Emmett.

"Nothing," I replied innocently. I'd been running my fingers along my shoulder, up my neck for the past five minutes and I knew his eyes were on me, that it was driving him crazy. It'd succeeded in doing the same to me; all I could think of were his fingers, his hands. I was distracted, completely turned on, trying to remember why we started this in the first place.

Kate raised an eyebrow. "I call bullshit. You're all agitated and he's got his laser eyes on you." She paused and her voice went lower as she leaned in toward me. "Are you fighting?"

"No." I shook my head and glanced back over my shoulder at him, my chin grazing bare skin. He was staring, intense. "Just playing. I'll be right back, okay?"

She smiled knowingly. "Uh huh."

I made my way back toward the bathroom, passing by the boys. Emmett was nursing his drink and his eyes slid to me, eyebrow quirked.

"...Guy thinks he's fucking Pele and ends up flat on his back..." Garret was saying, his arms waving expansively. Loud laughter erupted from his captive audience and Emmett laughed, too, but it was a preoccupied sound. I smiled to myself, counting silently as I kept walking.

I was halfway down the darkened hallway and had counted to thirteen when I felt him behind me. I looked over my shoulder with a smirk.

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"Going to the bathroom," I said, turning on my heel and facing him. "Is that allowed? Or do you need to dare me to do it first?"

"Depends on what you're doing in there," he replied, stepping forward. I stepped back. "Do you need to relieve some pressure? I could give you a hand."

I couldn't help laughing, even as my heart started beating faster. He moved nearer, close enough that he was dangerously, deliciously close to touching me, and I stepped back again until my back was pressed against the wall. He smiled, placing a hand on either side of my head. There was a steady hum of voices drifting down to us, but it was so dark and with him surrounding me it felt like we were completely alone, like we could do anything and not get caught. Heat licked at my veins at the thought.

"Ah ah, no touching." I tried to sound calm, but a slight tremor in my voice betrayed me. I shifted my hips, pushing back against the wall, the burn spreading lower.

"I know what you're doing, Rose." His palms slid down the wall with a soft hiss, stopping right above my shoulders. He leaned in, his nose just an inch away from mine. If I tilted my head the right way, we'd be kissing. My lips parted and his eyes flickered down to them. I saw the tip of his tongue sweep the soft red pillow of his bottom lip before our eyes met again. "You wore this dress to torture me, didn't you?"

"You wore your glasses to torture me," I said with a shrug. "All's fair in love and truth or dare, right?"

Dimples bloomed on either side of his grin. "Is that how the saying goes?"

"Tonight it is."

"How bad do you want to win this?" His tone silently spoke of things to come. Like me.

"Very badly."

"More than you want me?"

I gave him a look. "Right now? I don't want anything more than I want you."

He closed his eyes with a pained smile, bringing himself even closer. I felt the whisper of his lips against my ear, though it was just the weight of his breath. "Tell me what you want me to do to you right now."

When he pulled back, his eyes moved over my face, down my neck, lower. "You didn't even give me an option of truth or dare," I murmured.

He rolled his eyes but indulged me, his words rushing out in one impatient breath. "Truth or dare?"

He had me pinned to the wall by body heat, by shortened breath and lingering stares and I didn't hesitate. "Truth."

"Tell me what you want me to do to you right now," he repeated, his voice taking on a timbre that I felt against my skin, between my legs. His lips curled up slightly, his bottom lip catching on his teeth as his gaze flickered between my mouth and eyes.

I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the wall, just feeling him: his breath against my cheek and hair, the heat coming off his body and seeping into mine. He was electric, magnetic, pulling me to him without touching me at all.

And that was what I wanted.

"I want you to touch me," I murmured, my eyes fluttering open and meeting his.

He let out a sharp breath and I heard his fingers twitch against the wall. "Because you'll win?"

I shook my head. "Because you're driving me absolutely fucking insane keeping your hands off me."

We stared at one another for a long moment, my eyebrows raised, his eyes narrowed.

"All right, let's go," he said finally, stepping back.

I frowned. "Huh? We haven't been here long enough to -"

"I'll say I have a stomachache or malaria or my fucking period. Something. I don't care. Let's go."

I snorted, shaking my head. "They're going to see right through us, Em."

He waved me off. "So, fine, we tell them the truth. They understand the importance of seizing the moment in cases like this."

He was like an impatient little kid, shifting from foot to foot, looking at me pleadingly. And I couldn't deny him, because it would be denying myself, too. I nodded and his face broke into a gorgeous, wicked smile.

He reached for my hand, and then pulled back with a frustrated growl before taking off down the hallway. I followed close behind, my heart beating wildly. "Whose idea was this anyway?"

"Yours, Einstein," I said dryly, furtively brushing my fingertips against the back of his blazer as we pushed past people to get to Garrett and Kate.

"Well, next time I try to play this game with you, please tell me to fuck off."

"Or just fuck _me_," I said pleasantly.

He gave me a halfhearted warning look, then increased his pace toward Garrett and Kate, who were standing close and talking in low voices, grinning at one another in that secret, couple-y way that made my heart ache before I had Emmett.

"I hope you didn't make it to the girls' room," Kate said when we got to them. I wound my arm around her waist, squeezing gently, and she gave me a surreptitious wink.

"Oh, we did," Emmett affirmed. "Nothing turns me on like unicorns and glitter."

Garrett gestured to us with his beer bottle. "Are you two ditching?"

"Are you going to hold it against us if we do?"

"By all means, start the trend. I'm just about done entertaining for the night."

"Garrett, it's been an hour," Kate sighed.

"First of all, no. Some of these people have been here for going on two hours. And second of all, the girls are at your mom's for the night and let's be honest, I'm passing out at midnight. That gives us -" He looked down at his watch, tapping the face. "Well, four hours, but I've got plans."

Kate rolled her eyes, but her fingers interlaced with his and I could plainly see the pink flush spread across her cheeks. "All right, Cinderella."

"You're dismissed," Garrett said jovially, turning back to Emmett and me. "Don't forget to hydrate."

Kate mimed picking up a phone and mouthed, _call me_ as Emmett practically ran for the front door.

The ride home took minutes that stretched themselves out to feel like hours. Emmett leaned over the console from the back seat, directing the cab driver through the fastest route back to our apartment, which was ridiculous because after three months of living here he still didn't know where the hell he was half the time.

We didn't touch in the car, though the air between us was so thick that I swore I could feel his fingers, hands, mouth on me. We were both too stubborn, neither one of us wanting to give in, but as soon as we stepped into our dark apartment, I was up against the wall, pinned by his hips. My purse dropped to the floor with a thud and his hands started pulling at his coat and mine at the same time.

"Okay, game over," he growled out just before his mouth crashed into mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck, practically crawled up his body trying to get closer. My fingers plunged into his hair, twisting and weaving through the silky strands, and his hands reached down to my ass to pull me closer.

"Wait, wait," I said breathlessly, rolling my hips into him, desperate for friction, but wanting to slip back into control before we really got down to business. "Truth or dare?"

"Fuck, _really_, Rose?" he moaned, wedging his thigh between my legs.

"Truth or dare?" I asked again, telling him with my tone and eyes what he needed to pick if he knew what was good for him.

"Dare, dare, dare," he said quickly, impatiently, biting at my lower lip. I gave in, let our tongues move together until I was seeing brilliant flashes of light behind my eyelids, and then pulled back breathlessly.

"Show me what you've wanted to do to since you saw me in that see-through bra..." I ducked my head and kiss up the column of his throat, grazing my teeth against his racing pulse, "and those see-through underwear..." I nipped along his jaw line until I reached his ear and whispered, "That, by the way, I took off when I got dressed."

"_Fuuuck_." His voice reverberated off the walls of the foyer as his grip tightened on me. "You're evil, do you know that?"

"You started the game, bab -" I broke off as his palms slid up the front of my thigh, taking my dress with it. "What are you doing?"

"Confirming," he replied. My fingers were still tangled in his hair at the nape of his neck and I felt the muscles tense as he looked down and saw that I wasn't lying. His hands curled almost painfully around my hips and his eyes fluttered shut. When they opened and met mine, they were deep and hazy, intense. "Rosalie..."

"We're still at the show portion of the program, Em," I said, and then whimpered as his thumb swept over sensitive skin.

"Yes, finally," he breathed triumphantly. He grabbed me around the waist and half carried me to the bedroom, kicking open the door with his foot. We were a tornado of hands as soon as we hit the bed, pulling at clothes until we were naked and pressed together. He propped himself against the headboard and pulled me on top of him and there was no teasing now, just our mingling moans as I lowered myself onto him. He took my face between his hands, grazed his mouth against mine and then pressed against it again, coercing my lips apart. One kiss ebbed into another, slow, deep ones that matched what he was doing to me, and soon I could only concentrate on how he was making me feel, how he sounded, how it could always be like this, better every time.

"So close," I panted.

He groaned and I knew it was because he could feel just how close I was. "Love you," he murmured breathlessly into my hair, gripping me tighter.

I pressed my face into the crook of his neck and his hands went to my hips to help bring us closer, harder, faster and then I was gone, crying out, twitching over him and clenching around him, my fingers digging into his back. He kept going, disjointed, erratic movements, until he groaned and then stilled, his mouth open and hot against my shoulder.

I collapsed against him, my limbs useless and heavy, and he ran his hand up and down my back while our breathing slowed to a more normal speed.

"Holy shit, I love truth or dare," he mumbled against my skin. I laughed and pulled back so I could get a good look at him. His eyes were heavy; his cheeks and neck were flushed pink. The corners of his mouth pulled up into a lazy grin.

"I won tonight," I stated. His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth pursed adorably. "Let's just make it clear that you touched me first."

He gazed at me for a moment, and then shrugged. He brought me close again, wrapped his arms around me so that we were bare skin to bare skin, beating hearts and steady breath. "Well, you were right about one thing."

"What's that?" I asked, smiling against his neck.

I felt his grin spread across his face as his lips grazed my ear. "You always finish on top."


End file.
